All The World's A Flea Circus
by Six Fingered Kin Party
Summary: In which Francœur thinks a bit not about the whole world, but simply about his little piece of it, and how sometimes people can't make us happy in the way you wish they could. Francœur/Lucille, oneshot. / 2015


Francœur doesn't like Raoul very much.

Don't misunderstand; he's grateful for all Raoul has done for him. The human has good intentions, has never set out to hurt anybody. Were it not for him goofing about, Francœur would still be no more than a flea- and then again, after the reversion, when poor, poor Lucille thought him dead.

And on an individual basis, Francœur is rather fond of Raoul. The man is no more than a twenty-something-year-old child, and it's very fun to goof off with him. His new car, dubbed Catherine II, is a source of constant fascination for Francœur- everything is, of course, for someone so very new to the human world proper, but Catherine II is constantly changing and being added to. Every time Francœur sees her, something new has been added.

But when Raoul gets around Lucille, that is when Francœur stops liking him.

Again, this is a point not to misunderstand. He's a little jealous, but that isn't the problem. The problem is that they fight, and Francœur doesn't like it. Lucille is such a kind soul, but also such a fiery and independent soul, that he doesn't understand why she stays around someone that makes her frustrated, makes her angry, makes her upset, sometimes even makes her cry.

Still, no matter how frayed she may be, she always performs, and Francœur always joins her. The songs, and his presence, seem to transform her into something new. Nothing makes her unhappy when they sing together, when they dance together.

There too, he never makes her unhappy offstage either. He wouldn't dream of it; all he can do is try his best to repay her the kindness she has always shown him, since the very first time they met and (after the initial shock), she came out and held for him a pink umbrella to keep off the rain. When Raoul makes her upset, he sings, both because he finds he can't simply talk, and because it seems to make her so happy to hear him, making up a new tune every time, just for her.

Sometimes he sings to make her joyful again. He sings about the beauty of the world, or the rain on the roof, or how lovely she looks in her dress. He sings about silly things and wonderful things, about exciting things and familiar things. Songs only for her, and she has such a mind for music she remembers all of them.

Lately though, sometimes, he will sing to try and make her understand. "You are beautiful," he sings, "too beautiful for this."

Because he knows Raoul would never hurt her either, not on purpose, would never dream of laying a finger on her in haste or anger, but he also knows firsthand that it is not just the physical wounds that bleed.

Francœur is still slightly surprised but immensely grateful when they have their last real fight, and doors are slammed and tears are shed, and when she finally opens the door for Raoul again it's the next day and he's making a delivery. Francœur watches, and the two humans in front of him are tense, uneasy, but by the end of the exchange happier, and they tease each other a little, but they don't fight. In fact, from the point where they stop touching too much or smiling secretly at each other, he sees them fight less and less, and they seem so much happier.

Humans are strange, Francœur thinks. They always seem to find it so difficult to do what makes them happy.

They go back to all being friends. Emile and Maud are seeing each other now, and Francœur watches them too. He sees more than people realize- they, on the other hand, seem only to see each other. This is another thing he doesn't understand. It is quite the opposite of how Raoul and Lucille were: they are constantly fawning over each other, always doing anything to make each other happy, very often to the exclusion of all else.

This too seems to Francœur strange, and not right. But they make each other happy, not angry, so despite that Emile is spending less and less time with Raoul, the two of them stay just the same.

The more time he spends with Lucille, the more Francœur understands the feeling- but the less he understands the behavior. Can't he care for her in this strange and different way, and still also care about his other friends, Raoul and the Professor, Emile and Maud, all alike, even if in different ways?

This opinion does not change when she kisses him in a new way, befitting this strange sort of caring.

She has kissed him before, light pecks on the cheek or brushes on the forehead, but never in this manner; a tender press of her lips to his mouth, slow and sweet, and it isn't just the costume she's still wearing that makes him think, "like an angel." The curtain has just fallen, and despite the crowd out there, nobody sees the surprised widening of his eyes before he shyly kisses back.

They don't jump like she did with Raoul, and he's happy with that. It's better for her. It's slow contentment, it's holding hands in her dressing room, it's his arms wrapped around her in an easy dance, it's a contented walk together down the path of life.

This, he thinks, is what they all misunderstood: that there is room on this path for all of them, together. And he loves the stretches that he walks alone with Lucille, sometimes even stopping on the side of the road to lounge in the grass, smell the flowers, play around together- but he also loves the stretches that they walk in the company of others, and it's enough that they can see each other, and they don't always have to be holding hands.

Francœur is happy. More importantly, Lucille is happy now, and that's always good enough for him.


End file.
